Meant to be...

Three and a half months, five countries (so excited about all my passport stamps) and dozens of hours of bus rides later, its time for the final blog. (And you thought I got sentimental in the other ones)
Since this is my last opportunity to write, I obviously wanted to reflect on what this journey has meant to me, what I’ve realized and who I’ve come to be. It goes without saying that the children I worked with by far had the greatest impact on my life, I will never forget any of them and hope that they will in some way, shape or form continue to be a part of my life. I’m also grateful for all the people that I’ve met on this adventure, other volunteers dedicating their time, other travelers, some running towards something, others running away from something, and new friends from all over the world (now with a certain fondness for Canadians I meet in the jungle  ).
At the beginning of this experience I remember being quite frustrated, wondering if I had made the right decision to embark on this trip, to give up a job I loved and to come to Central America. Now with certainty, I know I needed to do this, I understand so much more of the reason why.
First and foremost, my relationship with my sister changed dramatically throughout the course of this trip. I think we both would agree that we’ve learned a lot about the other person, and moreover we’ve learned how to work together instead of against one another. I think it took a while but we both found our voice in this relationship and I hope that Deborah realizes how much I do view her as an equal, especially now.
Secondly, my faith in God has been deepened through this experience. I found myself drawn to visiting the chapel to pray daily and feel that I made God more a part of my regular life. My weekend spiritual retreat with the kids also really left me feeling my own faith strengthened.
Next, I learned to stand up for myself in a way I’ve always wanted to, but never figured out how. Without fear I spoke up and out, at first perhaps too much, but later learned to tame this tiger inside of me and have developed what I hope is a permanent ability to voice my opinion, to go after what I want, to not worry about seeming not like “the nice girl”. I learned to fight for me and it was beautifully liberating.
Anxiety and I have always had a funny relationship, one that hindered my life in so many ways. This trip was a dive headfirst in the pool of anxiety-provoking situations for me, and I learned to swim. Now I’m not by any means saying I still don’t have a long way to go, but most importantly I learned how not to let the fear of the fear inhibit me. Tikal was so amazing because it was the chance to realize all that I had been missing by letting anxiety rule. And perhaps even more important, I learned how to settle myself when I start feeling those feelings- a skill I desperately needed and will hold onto forever.
Finally, I don’t know if I can properly articulate this but I came to realize a lot about my own worth as a person and the worth of my love to others. I have so much to give and there are so many people who are open to receiving that love or whatever it maybe. However, I think I really came to feel that I am just as worthy of that love in return (something perhaps I preached, but did not truly believe). I know how much I value others in my life, but for the first time on this trip, I let myself realize, I can be and want to be valued by someone else too. The children at the orphanage taught me this lesson in the most beautiful ways. Perhaps this all sounds egotistical, perhaps I’m failing at explaining this well, but in my heart I know the message and now know how much I want to be (and look forward to being) a mother one day.

There is a lyric from the musical Wicked that says “Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better, but I know that I’ve been changed for good”. As I leave Central America after this adventure I know I have been changed. I do not return a completely different person, I do not return completely over all my fears, I do not return transformed…that wouldn’t be realistic. I do return certain of many things that I want in my life, stronger and more able to go after them. I return with my heart filled with a love that I didn’t know I could feel and the happiness that goes with that. And finally with the knowledge that I was meant to be here at this time in my life…and wherever life should lead me next.

You Better Belize it...

(No I didn’t make that up, its actually the tourism slogan for the country). So we’ve spent the last few days here on Caye Caulker in Belize. It’s a tiny island in the Caribbean just off the mainland coast of Belize. After another long bus ride from Tikal we made it to Belize city (a really sketchy place if you ask me) and immediately got on the ferry to the island. The hour ride was fairly okay, although when we hit a rough wave the door to the boat almost flew off (taking the porter with it) but we all made it there in one piece.
Caye Caulker is probably one of the strangest places I’ve ever been. Its one strip of land with hotels and restaurants on one side of the street and the beach on the other. The crystal blue water is breathtaking. The culture here seems to be of odd ex-pats, hippies and Rastafarians. It’s relatively under developed here and most people walk around barefoot. They say when in Rome…Deborah and I have joked about how we’ve given up on looking decent anymore. Incidentally our budget hotel room doesn’t even have a mirror. We’ve met some interesting folks here over the last few days, from life-long caye dwellers to fellow travelers escaping the cold of the north. Unfortunately it’s been raining (like hurricane quality rain) the last few days so we’ve been spending a bit of time in our hotel room. I did get some snorkeling in the first two days which was awesome. Great fish but with the weather we weren’t able to go out to any of the reefs because the trips were cancelled. Instead Deb and I got incredible massages! I don’t know that I could spend more than three days here but I’m glad that we made the trip.
We’ll be leaving on (get this) a propeller plane- yes if nothing else indicates how far I’ve grown on this trip, I actually opted to get on a another plane. It’s a short flight directly to the international airport from here which saved us the trouble of having to go back to Belize City, stay overnight there and then take an expensive cab to the airport. It should be an adventure. For now we’re going to go enjoy a final pina colada and watch the rain from an oceanside deck. See you all very very soon.

Reaching the Pyramids

Before I left in September, I spoke often about my excitement of going to Tikal. While doing researching for this trip I read about these “pyramids” that existed in Guatemala and from that moment I knew it would be a symbolic way to end my journey abroad. And here I am…I reached the Pyramids.

Tikal is absolutely spectacular. You are walking in the midst of dense jungle and suddenly, these immense structures rise out of the trees to greet you. They are incredible and more so impossible to believe that many were built around 100 B.C. It gets better…you can climb them. As Deborah put it yesterday, Tikal is like a big playground for adults. We spent the afternoon (after a 10 hour night bus ride across the entire country to get here!) scaling these structures. We then watched the sunset from atop the highest pyramid. Even though we were exhausted from our traveling we met some Canandians atop the pyramid who were staying at our hotel. The whole conversation started when Deborah apologized to me for making her buy a “stupid headflashlight” because all the Canandians had one and lead us out of the jungle. Turns out they were staying at our hotel and we all had a wonderful dinner and margaritas well into the night. Cora, Trevor and Craig are all scientists from Toronto, but two are moving the US soon for post-doc research. They are hilarious and we closed down the hotel restaurant.
Anyway…on to the most important part.
I had read the you could try to get into the park before hours to see the sunrise. Yesterday, I found a guide and haggled a little with him. He agreed to meet us at 4am at the entrance, but we were not allowed to tell a soul. And this morning we trekked through the jungle to Temple V in complete darkness. It was terrifying and exciting all at one. The structure (the second tallest but steepest) has the most harrowing wooden staircase I’ve ever encountered. And we had to climb it in the dark. Upon reaching the top finally, (still in the dark) we sat on a board and waited in complete darkness for the sunrise. They say “the darkest hour is just before dawn”, this morning certainly proved that cliché to be correct. As we sat there, cold and completely alone (the guide left once we reached the top) I realized what an amazing metaphor this was for life. You sit in the darkness and think that dawn will never come, but the sun does always rise. And this morning it was breathtaking. Watching that golden ball rise over the jungle and illuminate the Mayan structures was a once in a life-time event. We were completely alone in the jungle (just us the crazy howling monkeys).
I sat there and I thought about the symbolism of this event in my life. A year ago I know I would have let anxiety and fear inhibit me from doing so many things. Even that staircase or sitting in the dark, I know the old me would have felt so terrified that I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy anything. I realized how much in my life I’ve missed out on or ruined because I didn’t control that scared little voice inside. And on this trip I’ve learned to tame it and now look at me, I’ve climbed the pyramids. This morning was magical. I’m so glad I was able to share it with my sister, the two of us all alone in Tikal Park is a memory I will always hold dear.
This has been an incredible life journey for me in so many ways, but this morning, reaching the pyramids, seeing the sunrise on a new day, it seemed that much more special, poignant and complete.

From the middle East, Thailand and Mexico…we found it all in Guatemala.

The morning after our pizza fiesta at the orphanage, we boarded another bus at 5am for another 6 hour bus ride to Guatemala. After another hour cab ride, we arrived in our own little paradise. Thanks for mom, dad and the timeshare they purchased twenty years ago, we got to stay in a resort in Antigua for the week. This place was incredible. The most fabulous hot shower, the beds that were soooo comfortable and we had a fireplace in our room. Two gorgeous pools and a fitness center that included a eucalyptus steam room (a luxury we took advantage of daily to clear our clogged pores). And they had a spa there. Deborah and I treated ourselves to a mud wrap/massage. I don’t even have words it was so fabulous. I felt truly clean for the first time since I’d left home in September. God bless Marisol my masseuse. Anyway…besides our luxury hotel Antigua Guatemala is fabulous! It’s still stuck in the colonial period with its cobblestone streets and facades bus is home to some of the best restaurants we have experienced. We happily sampled Middle-eastern, Thai, and Mexican and of course traditional Guatemalan fare.
Antigua is nestled between a series of active volcanoes that provide an amazing backdrop. We had the opportunity to climb up to “Cerro de la Cruz” which is a look-out point over the whole city.
While in Antigua I spend the afternoons taking Spanish classes at an adorable little Spanish school. My teacher Gladys was awesome and we were able to give a whole bunch of our un-needed clothes to her daughters. Most importantly she really helped me with my verbs.
Antigua was so safe and so relaxing- the perfect way to end our time here in Central America…and now the best part…the markets! There are these huge and incredible vender markets with all of these beautiful Guatemalan goods. You could haggle all day long- I was in heaven.

Simple are the ways...

Simple is affairs that touch the heart.
Simple are the ways of love.
Simple as the touch of another's hands…
Simple as the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky.
Simple are the way we say good-bye…. (Nine, the Musical)

And just like that, my time in El Salvador came to an end. Three months after they all made their way into my heart, I said good-bye to my ninos at Hogar this past Friday. We sat together (all 53 of us) and watched a movie (Home Alone 2- at the request of the kids, although I certainly couldn’t complain. We sat there on the floor, laughing hysterically as Kevin outsmarts the bad guys. Finally Deborah and I bought pizza for all of the kids as a special treat for dinner. They were so grateful. And just like that, we hugged good-bye. It hasn’t hit me yet that I’ve said goodbye. I’ve been told that Carlos has asked for me. Before I left I asked him if one day he wanted to visit NY like Kevin in the movie does. He said he couldn’t. When I asked why not, he replied “because I’m not allowed to leave this place”- well that just about broke my heart. Although Carlos does not know (and probably never will) I asked the head nun for his information and his brothers. She told me they are so poor and can use any help. Hopefully I can send some clothes when I get back to the U.S.
Anyway, I’ve gone off on a tangent…
What I will always remember is that leaving that night a few of the kids followed me to the gate and told me when I missed them to look up at the stars from New York, because they would look up at the stars here, and “we all have the same sky”. It was so simple and so beautiful.
I know I will return to the orphanage again- when I can’t say- but I found a part of me there, a love that I never knew existed in me, a part of my heart that just figuratively exploded there. Simply…I became a better person because of these children and will forever be so grateful to them for that.

P.S.- not to overshadow my immense love for the kids but I’m SOOO excited about the movie “Nine” opening Christmas Day in the US (amazing musical and Penelope Cruz is in it!)

What Women Want

As my time here winds down I realized I have written very little about my other project which is teaching English at "Casa Mujer Teclina" or the City Office for Women. This project rose out of my own curiosity as the director of Casa Mujer was at our host family's house for a dinner party in mid-October. She and I got to talking about ways to empower women and she mentioned wanting to offer English classes...so of course I volunteered. Each morning I have a group of faithful students- women who are local community members, many of them disadvantaged looking to become more financially independent or able to find jobs in the workforce. We all believe that the stronger skill set you have and if you are able to support yourself you never will be dependent on a man and therefore less likely to end up in an abusive relationship. Other programs at Casa Mujer include counseling services for domestic violence, trainings for other groups about violence against women and a newly formed coalition of women dedicated to ending violence against women in their community. My sister joked about how it’s amazing I've come all this way but end up working in exactly the same subject area.
So my class is adorable. They are such enthusiastic students. We vary in size but tend to be around 10-12. This week we are working on vocabulary for visiting the US-as they all vow to come to New York City now.
This past week was also dedicated to raising awareness of violence against women. I was lucky to participate in some of the events. Monday we had a public movie viewing of a Mexican film entitled "Cicatrices" or "Scars" - very powerful, however of course I disagreed with the ending because the man changes. There was so much I wanted to say in the after-movie discussion but simply didn't have the vocabulary. Thursday there was training for male police officers. I stopped in to see what they were doing. To my excitement they were working on defining "what is a man" (see pictures) talking about the stereotypes and pressures of Latin men! Amazing project. Finally on Friday there was a huge fair in the park- information, education and induction. All of the government agencies attended with information about abuse for the public, there was a really intense play about sexual abuse in the schools (once again Deborah and I always end up watching interpretive theatrical pieces it was a bit confusing but we got the overall idea) and then many of the women I work with were inducted into a new network of women dedicated to "protecting the community against violence against women"- They all pledged to never close their eyes to the violence, and got really nice t-shirts (I got one too!).

All of these activities, my class, the projects, trainings and events have been truly inspiring and I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to share in this work. Its clear, women want justice, women want to be heard, to be self-sufficient, to be leaders, to be respected and while we still have a long way to go in many respects, I think we are beginning to get exactly what we want.

p.s. If I return here my project is definitely going to be a national campaign to end "hissing at women in the streets". Even on days I look like an absolute disaster (which is often) I still hear "ssss...chica" or "venga bebe". Ewh- stop staring and go learn English why don't you...at least if you're gonna catcall me, let it be in my own language.

Nadie Te Ama Como Yo...

(No one loves you like I)...Before I left, everyone joked about how I was going to come to El Salvador and fall in love with some Latin man...I scoffed and said it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. And then it happened.
His name is Carlos Alexander and he's eight years old. In all seriousness, as I write about the experience I had this weekend, I realize this blog might be more of a personal journey entry, but it’s how I'm feeling right now.
This past weekend I was invited by Walter (who is a volunteer from Hogar para Ninos and friend) to help facilitate in a 3 day spiritual retreat (or equipo as its called) for the teenagers. For three full days I lived at the orphanage. We all slept in the same building, ate together and prayed together. I cannot put into words how powerful this experience was for me. Walter organized this entire event and had some of his fellow church group friends facilitate most of the weekend. We talked openly about spirituality, sexuality, relationships, friendships and ambitions for life. We prayed traditionally, we sang prayers, we prayed in silence. For my TUS alums, it was similar to our peer ministry/senior retreats. Some highlights included a bonfire that we created and burned papers that held our sins, a blindfolded walk over stones to represent having to go through tough times before finding peace and the celebration of mass together where we all received blessed crosses. In our down time, we sat around talking, playing, bonding. Incidentally, Walter and I happened to show up on Friday morning dressed identically, completely unplanned so the kids had a field day with that calling us "Mickey and Minnie" for the entire weekend.

Saturday night at the retreat the theme was "family". We all sat in a circle on the floor, in darkness with the exception of one lit candle in the center. A facilitator told her story of her broken childhood. She then played one of the most heart-wrenching and beautiful songs I've ever heard about losing loved ones. And their eyes began to flow tears like I've never seen before. I sat there in the darkness simply holding these children. In one arm a 14 year old who I've always known as "Mr. Cool, calm and collected" sobbed and in the other arm, a 12 year old who was forced away from abusive parents as a kid held onto me crying into my sweater. All I could think was "I wish I had arms large enough to just hold all of them". We then listened to another song entitled" Nadie te ama como Yo" about how God's love for us is so beyond our understanding. And I found clarity.

I sat there holding, hugging, comforting and found a peace that I've never felt before in my life. I felt this peace that I am in the right place that this is what I can do. This is my gift. I've always felt that I have so much love inside of me to give, but no place for it go and now here I am in this place where it is so needed. Perhaps I sound egotistical. Their stories are all so sad, and while they are so well taken care of in physical sense at the Hogar, they are not nurtured emotionally.

After the kids went to sleep (at 1am) Walter and I sat up talking until 3 in the morning about that night. I talked about how powerful it had been and how strongly I loved these kids. He gave me what might be the most incredible compliment I've ever received from anyone in my life. I was talking about how hard it is for me because I can't communicate with words what I want to say so often. And he said "You don't need to, you speak with your heart, we all understand perfectly". He then shared with me a poem he wrote for me about the simpleness of my hands that he sees at work there. It was so moving. We both were sitting there crying like fools, exhausted, unable to express exactly what we wanted to say because of the language barrier and at the same time completely able to understand each other's feelings about our experiences with the kids. We made a promise that if I didn't find whatever it was I looking for in the US, I would come back. As long as I live the images from that night will be in my mind, but moreover the feeling of so blessed that God gave me the gifts, this heart and these opportunities, is something I will do everything in my power to hold onto.

While he was not on the retreat, Carlos and I did have the opportunity to spend time together this weekend. In a moment while we were playing he accidentally called me "mom". My heart broke and at the same time, was so filled with this unconditional love.

I realize this all sounds rather corny or perhaps egotistical. Perhaps it is, but I can't put into words how happy and filled I feel- it is in moments like sitting around with my girls talking about if I wear a thong in the United States, or when Bryan and I, at 7 am on a Sunday were playing ping-pong, or when Carlos runs to hold my hand (so we could go to communion together). They have all become so special to me, I've gotten to know them and they have gotten to know me. I don't know how I'm going to leave.

Hogar translates from the spanish to "home". Home is a place of comfort, happiness and peace. My heart has found home.

Link to some amazing photos:http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein/EquipoHogarParaNinos#

8th grade dances rock my world

You haven't lived until you've attended an 8th grade dance in a Latin American country.

Recently I had this opportunity and frankly it was one of the best parties I've ever attended. In all seriousness, one of my final days working at the school "Las Dispensas" happened to be the 8th grade end of the year "Grand Ball". After paying my entrance fee of 25cents, I got to enjoy the music, awkward dance moves and body odor associated with all 8th grade dances across the world. However, getting to party with my students and just let loose was truly one of my most memorable experiences here in El Salvador. After weeks of nouns, verbs and adjectives it was a blast to salsa, reggaeton and bailar loco with these kids. (Chris, I needed you-remember our swing moves from the last night in Costa Rica!?) It was just innocent fun and although I can't tell if the kids are laughing at me or with me, for that afternoon language didn't matter...only your moves did.

Additionally, I was humbled by an invitation from my students for a "thank you" lunch. Deborah, Marla and I were treated to traditional Salvadorian fare (amazing fried yuka and tamales!) (not so amazing cake from Mr. Cakes- an affiliate of the Mr. Donut chain not surprisingly) and we were serenaded by my 7th graders. So adorable. Also attending our lunch were the disorganized school prinipal, her partner who also teaches at the school, Miss El Salvador wanna-be science teacher, creepier math teacher who sent me that hilarious email about "tuna get together" (sorry for those of you who didn't get that forward) and my pal the out-of-his mind english teacher who swears that English sounds better when an angel like me teaches it. It was quite a way to end my tenure at Las Dispensas.

(see video below and link to photos)

More pictures:http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein/LasDispensas?feat=directlink

an uphill battle

Last time I climbed a volcano (two weeks ago), we had the luxury of driving the car directly to the crater. No so this time. Yesterday my sister, two other volunteers, our coordinator Joaquin and I scaled Volcan Santa Ana- the tallest volcano here in El Salvador. And at 7,812 ft above sea level we had a lot of climbing to do. Well Joaquin had told us to be prepared it was going to be a challenge, I must admit that I didn't fully believe him. (He has a tendency to exaggerate the difficult of physical activity). We began our trek and leisurely strolled through the "cerro verde" forrest. I began to wonder if I should have stayed in bed. When we reached the "look out point", we in fact couldn't see a thing as the cloud cover was so thick. Two hours into this trek I was ready to abandon mission...and then the real climb began. Suddenly the lush forrest gave way to ash, rubble and steep rocks for us to scale. Now three hours into this adeventure I was weary. As we walked through what looked like a nuclear wasteland, in and out of clouds, exhausted and thirsty, I truly felt like we were in one of those NBC end-of-the-world disaster mini-series. And then we reached the summit.
Incredible. The volcano which erupted just five years ago, had carved out a lake (green from the sulfur) and left essentially no vegetation anywhere. There we stood at the top of El Salvador.
The trip to reach the top of this volcano reminds me a lot of my feelings about El Salvador, the country, as a whole- a constant uphill battle. This country has so much potential but everything here always ends up becoming more complicated, more difficult, than it needs to be. You start of cruising and by the end, can barely manage to go on. For example, this country's tourism industry. You start of with all of these amazing landmarks, sites and cultures- perfect for tourists. But unlike its neighbors, El Salvador doesn't even have a tourism department. As you travel to learn there are no banks or hotels or businesses that except traveler's cheques (or sometimes foreign credit cards). There are no roads that link certain parts of the country to major cities. To navigate here as a foreigner you are constantly fighting an uphill battle. An to no fault of its own, the country just can't seem to get ahead. Everytime they make progress some natural disaster (flood, earthquake or hurricane) "erupts" and leaves the country in ashes.
This story sums it up perfectly- (this is how everything seems to go here) A few years ago a hotel was developed in the area near Santa Ana Volcano. It was a beautiful hotel that prided itself on the amazing views of the volcano- a resort with pools, restaurants and tours. The day it opened for business, the volcano erupted (for the first time in centuries) and destroyed the resort.
the climb was worth it... I hope it is for El Salvador someday too.

Link to photos:

http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein/VolcanSantaAna#

Where the streets have no name...Our Journey to Nicaragua

While they have made some advances in recent times, it is true Nicaragua is a country where the streets have no names. Rather than a formal address you have a location or a point of interest that directs you to your destination. For example, your address might be "two blocks off the main road, past the church, next to the old well" or "left at the fork in the road, across from the doctor's office". It has always been this way and while Nicaragua has its share of modern luxuries, majority of its heritage remains in place (wherever that might be).
I must confess that I, for the most part I did not see the "real Nicaragua" on this trip. Nicaragua is one of the poorest countries in the world and while I certainly witnessed signs of it (little children asking if they could finish my plate at an outdoor restaurant), I had more adventure and tourism in Nicaragua.
After a 9 and 1/2 hour bus ride (that left at 3:00am!) we arrived in Managua the Capital of Nicaragua. We had the opportunity to stay with a ex-pat friend of a friend from NY, Justin Westbrook. A former Mississippi man, living in Nicaragua where he owns his own business and factory, Justin was the ultimate host and gave these two girls much needed respite. His home became our home for five days and we lived in luxury. A swimming pool in the yard, an amazing hot shower (with water pressure!!!!!) and he has fabulous tastes- we dined on cheeses that Deborah and I had fantasized about for the last two months, toasted wine and grilled steak.
As you can see from the pictures we truly went adventuring. Visiting Volcan Masaya (an active volcano) was probably one of the most amazing things I've ever done in my travels. We got right up to its edge to view the smoke and ash. Incredible! Also, we had the opportunity to do a six mile kayak trip in Central America's largest lake, Lake Nicaragua. It was so serene and the views were breathtaking. Towards the end of the trip we paddled out of the inlets and into the main lake where we hit some outrageous waves. I've never kayaked in waves like that before but it was so much fun! My arms hurt at the end, but it was well worth it. Visiting Granada, one of the oldest cities in Central America we saw traces of Nicaragua's glory and violent history. We also met some older tourists from Long Island who told us we restored their faith in the youth of american by volunteering. This was of course said while the woman harshly shooed away a poor begging child. Anyway...
We also swam in the crystal waters of Lake Apoyo (after hiking a 900 foot decent down the mountain to it, where I was convinced I was going to hack it. It was the most intense hike Deborah and I had ever done, but the destination made it worthwhile). And who could forget the champagne brunch that Justin treated us to at one of the nicest hotels in Managua (of course I should have known better than to drink champagne and got all emotional talking about suffering in the world) but then we went back to the house and watched the Motorcylce diaries so I felt better.

I can't even say that I lived like the "other half" in Nicaragua because its more like 5% have the opportunities that we did while visiting. However I can say, Nicaragua is a beautiful beautiful country with an interesting and violent history. Yet, I felt safer there and calmer. There is an ease to life, a calmness about people and places that I do not find in El Salvador or when I visited Honduras last spring. And amidst all of its struggles, it is a country filled with color. I felt more alive just being surrounded by the vibrant flowers, brilliant paints on the sides of houses or the open land.
I fell in love with the country, its charm, its history and its people. And while I'm sure I was a little buzzed from all that hot shower water, I know there is something more to this feeling than just living in luxury for a week.
I will return to this country one day and happily wander around the streets with no names...

Or maybe I liked it all so much because the National beer is "Victoria".

Link to photos:

http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein/Nicaragua#

Link to Orphanage photos...

http://picasaweb.google.com/VictoriaLHertlein

Attachment Issues...

I knew it was only a matter of time before this happened (again).

Now that I've been here almost seven weeks, I've formed some really strong relationships with many of the kids at the orphanage. I constantly look forward to my afternoons there. My girls group is beginning to solidify and I have my "regulars" that wait for me to sit and do homework or just chat (I use the term "chat" loosely, its more of a sign language show). A few weeks ago I wrote about how impressed I was with the actual compound itself, but now its the children there that inspire me. They are the most respectful, thoughtful and loving children I have ever encountered. Additionally, I'm struck by their openness. For example, I've only known Blanca (see picture) about 4 weeks (she's in my girls group and just about to finish 6th grade). We sit and talk about boys and relationships and then food and sports as if we've known one another for years. Her younger sister takes so much pleasure in teasing me about my accent but still never fails to come and give me that most amazing hugs every time I see her. And then there is Bryan and Chepa (who's real name is Jose Carlos). They are both 14, which normally is such an awkward age for boys but every afternoon we sit and do homework together and talk about music. Bryan is a really talented guitar player (see video) and loves to talk really really fast in Spanish to throw me off. And Chepa who is this tough guy actually ran to me when I walked through the front gates the other day (granted he needed help with math homework) we've formed this friendship. And of course my baby, Carlos, he's eight and we bonded when me made me "la boca" from newspaper. Its a puppet mouth out and play that its eating the other person. Mom, Dad, I'm bringing him home.

What is universal regardless of the age or nature of the relationship, I've found, is this unconditional love. It's just given without hesitation. The hugs, the kisses, the way they sit just a bit closer than they someone normally would (or on your lap) ready to give love and affection. When someone shares with you, the only thing you want to do is give it back tenfold and that is why I've already lost this battle with my own heart. I will leave a big piece of it here when I return to the US in a few weeks.

Imagine if adults could love as unconditionally, without inhibition, without that guarding of the heart, how much lovelier life would be.

In the book I'm reading by Paulo Coelho now the main character writes, "I figured that anyone who learns to conquer her heart, can conquer the world". In fact I think quite the opposite, I've clearly never been one to control my emotions well and when I leave those gates in the afternoon, I'm sure that I can do anything.

p.s. In the picture with Bryan and the guitar- I'm living the Sound of Music!!! haha

p.s.s. Kenzie, if you're reading this- email me! I miss hearing from you. mshertlein@gmail.com

A Voice for the Voiceless

There is a saying, "wherever you go, there you are" and today that certainly proved to be true. I'm a city girl, no matter where I go and today I got to visit the Capital city of San Salvador and fell in love with central america again.

I made a friend here. His name is Walter and he also volunteers at the orphanage as a spiritual advisor. He lives in San Salvador and offered to show us around and to attend mass with him at the National Cathedral. We left early this morning and had a grand tour. Our first stop was the Hospital Chapel of Divinia Providencia, where Archbishop Oscar Romero was shot during mass in 1980. I knew about Msgr. Romero from my Fordham days (as he was a Jesuit who fought for the working classes in El Salvador). Seeing this history was incredible. We then went to the national Cathedral in the city center and viewed the crypt of Msgr. Romero and attended Sunday mass there. Msgr. Romero is revered here as a modern day saint, he is called the man who "gave a voice to the voiceless" as he openly spoke in favor of the rights of the working poor, farmers and other marginalized groups. The tributes to him were beautiful and there is an amazing statue which lies underneath the church, its completely dark metal except for a small red sphere that is bursting from his chest- his heart. You touch the heart and say a prayer for the oppressed and for his strength. It was amazing.

We then visited some other amazing churches and historical buildings and had lunch in a traditional Salvadorian cafe. I had some shredded chicken in a biscuit, it was really good. And then to the bakery for - get this!- chocolate donut. So delicious. Finally we went to some great markets to browse and bargain.

What I love about San Salvador is the clashing of the old and new worlds. On one corner you have this amazing building with traditional spanish architecture and across the street is a Pizza hut. There were all these strange little storefront shops- like an arcade that was only open on sunday and mondays worn pool tables which would be next to a higher end shoe store. Or the road towards the main market has a beautiful Gothic church at one end. There are stone monuments marking the stations of the cross all down the road. Today I noticed a woman had set up her fruit cart at station seven! I loved the history, the architecture, the commercialism and how it all comes together to form this chaotic harmony that is any major city.

The final comment I will make is that I was quite aware of the poverty in San Salvador. Many more beggars, homeless people and shoeless children. I couldn't help but imagining Msgr. Romero walking the streets here in the late 1970's bringing a message of hope- it was a very special day.

GOL!!!!!! My thoughts on El Salvadorian nationalism

This past week we had the opportunity to experience a once in a lifetime event- attending a game of the El Salvadorian National Futbal team. The opponent: the much hated Honduras national team. We entered the gates of the stadium and were consumed by a sea of blue and white- everyone, and I mean everyone (including us) was wearing a team jersey. I was upset when I heard the vendors at the gates selling the shirts for $5.00 a piece as I had been all excited that I bargained at the market and got mine for $7.50 anyway...so thank God things improved because if my impression of this country was based solely on getting into the stadium, I would have been on a plane back to the US by now. I can't write some of the comments that were heckled by drunk Salvadorians waiting en mass to enter the stadium or how someone poked me repeatedly with an inflatable stick that said "EL SALVADOR!". Once again we were stuffed into situations that I'm surprised no one has died from stampeded. I guess the guards with the AK-47's (or something like that) standing at each door help with that issue. Basically, people are drunk before even getting into the stands. However...once we got inside and I felt safer, I began to appreciate the tradition and importance that is futbal in this country (and other Central American cultures). Perhaps it is because the country is small, or perhaps because of all the turmoil for so many years, but I can't really put into words the immense wave of nationalism and patriotism that swept over everyone in that stadium, including myself. You felt a part of something. During the game people were constantly cheering ( many times vulgar ) and also I learned later, throwing bags of pee onto the field when a bad call was made...but like everyone else I got so into the spirit of it all.

Get this- apparently I was on El Salvadorian T.V. When we got home that night, Joaquin's parents told me they saw me, the camera had focused on me cheering. How hilarious! I guess its easy to find the gringa. (And no I don't know the guy in the picture, but I LOVED this get-up!)

El Salvador lost, it was heartbreaking too. I was nervous the crowd would go crazy, but all was relatively calm considering.

Anyway, I really enjoyed this experience amidst some of its craziness. There is a love for this country (in good times and bad) that they have here, that I don't think we have in the states. I was saying to Joaquin, I'd never wear a shirt with the American flag on it and I realize that once again maybe we're missing something at home. However, I'll take attending national sporting events without the bags of urine.

Baby gets a hot shower...

So this past weekend, Deborah, Marla and I decided to take a holiday to Lago Coatepeque, a beautiful lake nestled in the crater of a now non-active volcano. The guidebook likened the hotel we chose to stay at as "similar to the lakeside resort featured in Dirty Dancing with its wrought-iron chairs, sprawling lawn and patio overlooking the lake". Well Hotel Torremolinos didn't exactly prove to be Kellermans but this "baby" finally got her hot shower.

I was a bit wary of the accomidations after I booked the room last week and only needed to give my first name and a time I wanted to show up. However, when we arrived they were expecting our group. The hotel concierge is run by a transvestite. She/He was incredibly accommodating and made sure we had all that we needed. The view was breathtaking. There was a charming funkiness to the place that I really enjoyed. I walked around without shoes on the whole weekend, from the pools to the deck out to the lake. I contemplated running out into the lake water to jump into someone's arms as tribute to the late, great Patrick Swazye, but we were cautioned not to swim in the lake as it had many fish and algae and I think pollution (my Spanish is still in its early stages). Turns out, we were the only guests staying there on Saturday night. We weren't alone however, the friendly staff was frequently asking if we needed anything, locals tried to get us to take boat tours and stray dogs and cats wandered about the property and the dining room keeping us company.

We spent the weekend lounging by the pool, reading and watching the soccer game with the staff members (the boat tours were too expensive). The hotel had a restaurant and this morning I had pancakes- they were surprisingly delicious!

Apparently Lago Coatepeque used to be a popular destination for both local and foreign tourists, however in the last few years has greatly suffered. Most of the properties around the lake are now gated homes owned by the elite members of Salvadorian society, and the bus route is difficult and a bit dangerous, making it a challenge for visitors (thus the emptiness). The road to travel around the lake is dirt and stone, a tough passage for cars. This afternoon on our way home, a friend of Joaquin our coordinator came to pick us up in his 1990 Nissan Sentra. Carlos, or "Gordo" as he is called by his friends (and rightly so) and his car had some difficulty, so much so that at one point the rest of us had to get out of the car and stand on the side of the road so that it could make it over the potholes. There is an irony to the fact that "Gordo" got to stay in the car....anyway....pleasantly there were some day visitors Sunday. Couples stopping by for lunch or to enjoy the view and a group of low-budget models having a photo shoot in the dining area.

Amidst all of this, I neglected to mention perhaps for me the most exciting and wonderful part of the weekend- Hotel Torremolinos did offer a hot shower. The flow was more of a trickle, but for for the first time in almost 6 weeks, I washed my hair with hot water. And for those minutes in that shower this weekend, I just might have had the time of my life...

Nuns have more fun

Today, October 1st is "Dia de los ninos" (or Day of the Children)here in El Salvador. All of the kids at the orphanage were curious to know what we do for "dia de los ninos" in the US, however I explained we sadly don't have this celebration. So the nuns have made this essentially an all week celebration culminating with a fiesta this evening. Monday there were clowns with pinatas and way too many "dulces" for the little ones, there were homemade pupusas and other traditional foods and finally tonight a "el drama & bailar" (drama and dancing). I'm constantly in awe of the how amazing of a job these nuns do with these children. I know when I am there I constantly forget of the outside world and any troubles I've ever had, and find myself immersed in this world of simple happiness. I have never been more upset to not have my camera with me than I was tonight.

Here's how it went down.

So I was just about to start my girls group (which I recently got permission to do!) and then we all got called to the main room for the show. First there was an acting group (of sorts) and they did some skits or "dramas", the first of which two men dressed as over-the-top women lip-synced to a woman dressed as a man and chased him about the stage. Then later, they had a guy dress as a bride and the woman as the groom and a crazy grandmother was getting an exerocismo- I think. I don't know, the kids didn't even get it. They did get that the guy was a girl and the girl was a guy and kept chanting "BESO, BESO" or "kiss!".

So then the nuns decided to do their own skit. Once again, I don't have a clue what the premise was, but from what I could gather, they were all old people injured during various wars in central america and met and hospital and were dancing. Either way- their costumes were hilarious and they pretended to have crazy injuries like missing legs and would hop around or dance in wheelchairs. Finally, they had all the kids dancing to traditional music. And now my favorite part. The acting troupe brought with them a five year old Michael Jackson impersonator. This kid brought the house down. Hands down one of the best I've ever seen. He did all of Billie Jean (mostly original choreography) and then "Thriller"! The kids all knew MJ and were bopping along. I was sitting with 3 of the older kids and they all knew "Thriller" but asked me to explain what the song was about. I'm like, oh great, how am I going to pull this off? I wish I could have video-taped this, but in my broken spanish here is what I said.

"Es un hombre camia en el lugar quien las personas muertes son, el cemitario? (the kids nod) Y, las personas muertes se levante (this is where I put my arms out like a zombie and the kids go oh! zombios" I nod). Entonces los zombios y el hombre Michael Jackson bailamos!". The grammar in that explanation is so far from correct but somehow the kids got it and now understand the premise of "Thriller". We all had a good laugh.

The kids at the orphanage LOVE to make fun of my accent when I speak either english or spanish and like to ask how to pronounce names in English. For example, "say Ang-hel-ee-ca" in ingles"- Angelica! (roaring laughter).

Finally, the other day the cleft on my chin was the source of much conversation and question. They had never seen it before and were touching my chin and asking "what was this hole?". (Sr. Susan I hope you're reading this, because this story originates with you) (Background for my response: when I was a sophomore in high school I had to make a mask of my face out of some plaster and I showed mine to Sr. Susan who was so impressed that I had all details including the cleft in my chin. I said, I had never really paid attention to that before, to which she replied, "Well, that's where God put this thumb and said 'You're done'.

The kids liked that story too.

P.S. For everyone who felt Michael Jackson was more of a menace to society, I still beg to differ as this evening was a perfect example of how great artists transcend culture, generations and language to have an impact. The King of Pop lives on in El Salvador.

P.S.S.- Meghan, if you're reading this. Didn't you have a wall calendar titled "nuns have more fun" at one point in college?

I feel the earth move...

Another weekend, another exciting overnight to the town of Suchitoto, located far east of our home base of Santa Tecla. We traveled on the bus for a few hours to reach this remarkable quintessential Central American town. I absolutely fell in love with the charm and simplicity of Suchitoto. From the town square with its historic church and daily artisan market, to the delicious pupusa's and hospitality of the locals, this city looked and felt the part of old world Latin America. However, the scars of war were still so present here. Many buildings still contained the bullet holes from the deadly civil war, which apparently raged hard in the Suchitoto area as the guerrilla's had control of the land. Fortunately the city is now trying to reestablish itself and welcome tourists. Situated next to a beautiful river/lake you can wonder the streets or travel to the nearby waterfalls as we did. Although, they should give better warning about how steep the travel down is! One false step and you're careening 75 feet into rocks!

Of course my favorite part of Suchitoto was their campaign to end violence against women! Yes, a city-wide initiative, driven by the national office for women. As part of this public awareness campaign, each house was asked if they would support the cause and educate others by painting a small graphic on the front wall. You can see this phrase and picture everywhere. It translates to: In this house, we want a life free of violence against women". The bird is meant to signify freedom. Truly amazing.

Additionally, the weather down here has been a bit wild lately as we move into the most intense part of winter. The rain in the afternoons is unlike anything I've ever seen. Torrential is an understatement. And last night when we returned from Suchitoto, I experienced my first earthquake. It was relatively minor, however it shook the house and rattled our room and nerves just a bit. They are incredibly common down here. My parents always joked that crazy weather followed me- I certainly hope that isn't the case here. We have have a volcano about 5kms away...

Bienvenida Latin American Idol

So I have a new television obsession. Those of you who are able to watch "Glee" in the US have nothing on Latin American Idol (Season 4). It is exactly like "American Idol", the music, the wacky auditions, the melodramatic personal stories of the contestants and here is the best part- the judges! I kid you not the each resemble their american counterpart (physically and in personality). We have the well-known Cuban-born Jon Secada (filling in for Randy Jackson), Mimi, of 80's latin girl-band fame (Paula) and finally Oscar Mediavilla, the musician and composer and Simon Cowell of the trio, he is there to keep order to the group. They bicker and battle just like in America. All the contestants must be from Central or South America (including Dominican Republic but excluding Brazil (they have their own version). This week we finished up auditions and how have the top 24, I've already picked my favorites. Most excitingly, there is one girl from El Salvador, we'll be sure to root for her.